


Blood On Our Hands

by MissV



Series: Blood On Our Hands [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi, but some people might disagree, i don't take pressure well, it is wilford and dark after all, it's not really very graphic, please don't pressure me, plus anti, this is gonna take me a while to put out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 00:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11047392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissV/pseuds/MissV
Summary: Jack runs a gaming channel on YouTube. He got pretty big with Pewdiepie's shout-out, but his popularity really soared when he created the series Antisepticeye Plays, in which his alter-ego plays games with his own twisted commentary on them. What his fans don't know is that Anti isn't the result of make-up and hours of editing. He's real- and part of Jack.The fans go absolutely nuts for it, including one group of fans in particular: The Markipliers.





	1. Anti's Debut

“Top o’ the mornin’ to ya laddies, my name is Jacksepticeye, and welcome back to carvin’ pumpkins!”

Jack continued with his introduction, stating how he’d like for pumpkin carving on Halloween to be a tradition, and that he hadn’t thought of a design for this one yet, but it would probably be simple. As he continued rambling, he realized that he’d forgotten the marker off to the side, and grabbed it. For several minutes, he sat there, trying to think of a design. He’d have to cut this out of the video later.

_“Tsuj evig mih prahs hteet, tnecserc seye, dna eb enod htiw ti. Er’uoy gnillats.”_

Jack sighed and scribbled the design onto the pumpkin, erasing it and re-drawing to perfect it.

_“Dna ot llats. Teg no htiw ti.”_

He grit his teeth, smiling harshly at the camera and explaining how he was using two knives to carve easier.

“This is gonna get… dangerous,” he said, as a warning. Mainly to remind himself. “Right. So. What you’re _annog od_ …” He paused. “Fuck was that? Thought I heard somethin’. One sec’, guys.” He got up and walked out of the camera’s range. “Hello?” he called.

Jack could sense his eyes changing, turning a glossy black. Green blood pooled in his mouth, sticky and sharply acidic, before running over his lips to drip down his chin. Electricity zapped in his hair, which turned a pale yellow-green.

Then, none of those features were his.

Anti walked to the opposite side of the camera, poking his head down slowly with a razor grin. He pulled away, and the transformation back into Jack was instantaneous. Jack wiped the green blood from his chin with a towel they’d luckily had the foresight to place behind the camera.

“Weird…” he murmured, sitting down at the table again.

Jack picked up the larger knife, examined it, and started to push the blade through the pumpkin’s top. He imagined the edits he’d put in this place later, of Anti doing shit, but they hadn’t filmed those yet. Randomly, he felt blood pouring out of his nose. Anti was doing his part to make a good show. Jack just wished Anti would have warned him about this beforehand.

He left abruptly to clean it up. When he returned, he finished clearing out the pumpkin’s innards, and carved out his features. In between, he made comments about hearing noises that he would add later; he could probably find stock noises, actually. That was one thing he didn’t need Anti for.

He took a breath, and picked up the knife one last time.

“Alright… The last thing you’re gonna do is take your knife and do fine lines…” Jack straightened, looking directly at the camera.

He brought the knife across his throat.

He’d edit it to look jagged, as if both he and Anti were doing it, although this was all him.

Jack slumped over the pumpkin. He felt faded. Dry. Like he was evaporating. Then, he felt Anti.

The bastard whispered, _“Uoy t’nac eid no em. Ew htob wonk woh ti skrow won. Uoy deen em sa hcum sa I deen uoy.”_

Absently, he wondered just how much the fans would lose their minds trying to decode Anti’s words. If they would succeed.

Slowly, he felt himself returning, but his presence in their vessel took a backseat as Anti finally, officially took control.

Anti yanked their head up from the pumpkin and reached out to the camera, laughing. He was excited to make his debut. He giggled on loop, their head now low over the pumpkin. Jack would edit the video later so that the movement didn’t look as sudden as it was. Next, he sat up, and went through the rant they’d come up with before filming.

 _“His body was weak,”_ Anti growled, thrusting the knife at the camera. He was relieved to finally be able to talk without it coming out of their lips backwards, but the words clawed their way out of their throat, sounding raspy from disuse. Or maybe that was just Anti’s voice when he was in control. He honestly didn’t know.

“ _You all said my name… Kept me alive… I am here now. It’s on you. It’s all your fault. You listen to me. You all made this happen. You could have stopped me. But you… just… watched… as this happened! Now he’s gone forever! Say goodbye…”_

___________________________________

They all sat there. Dumbfounded.

Wilford closed out of the video and turned to his friends, smirking.

“I toooold you he was the best _opt_ ion.”


	2. Shiny Black Eyes

_**One Year Later...** _

 

Jack put his head in his hands, palms just above his ears. He rocked back and forth in the chair.

Restless.

“Stop… stop… stop…”

Abruptly, he whipped his head around like a wet dog.

“Shut up!”

_“I t’ndid yas gnihtyna.”_

Restless. He was _restless_. Both of them were restless.

Jack sucked in a large gulp of clean air, his right leg jumping up and down without his permission.

 _Restless_ … Jack couldn’t _stand_ being restless. He needed… _they_ needed… to do _something_.

He stood up, then flopped back down.

“Not again… _not again_ …”

_“Ew htob wonk woh siht sah ot og. Tsuj tel em ni, dna I nac pleh.”_

Restless…

**_“I tnaw ot pleh.”_ **

Reluctantly, Jack pushed his own thoughts aside. The acidic blood flowed into his mouth. The last thing he could remember was spitting it out.

**___^.^___**

Shiny black eyes in the bushes.

The stranger hadn’t noticed them. No one ever did; they were too dark to really stand out of the shadows.

Shiny black eyes under the streetlight.

The stranger was too far away now to see them. But he could see a figure. Thin, pale, with yellow-green hair. Unfortunately for him, he saw no significance in this figure, and continued walking.

Shiny black eyes outside of the stranger’s window.

He saw these- or thought he saw them. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, reflecting off of the glass? Yes, that was probably it. There was no reason to worry, in any case. It’s not like whatever it was could get in.

Shiny black eyes, right next to his bed.

There was no possible way for the stranger to see them now. He was sound asleep, and would stay that way for the rest of his life.

How convenient that the rest of his life amounted to a minute.

**___^.^___**

In the morning, Jack sat happily at their kitchen table, spooning soggy cereal into his mouth. As he ate, he scrolled through Twitter and Tumblr, responding to whatever comments caught his attention.

Suddenly, a message dinged onto his phone’s screen. He opened it up to find that it was from Ethan, a friend he’d made only recently due to some… regrettable circumstances.

**Baby Boy Blue: Dude! This just happened in your area! Was it him?**

Frowning, Jack tapped onto the attached news article.

**_Suspected Rapist Found Dead In His Home_ **

Jack choked on his cereal.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to point out that Robin, Jack's editor, is phenomenal. While he doesn't appear in this story due to the plot, I feel like I have to give him a shout out, with how much work he puts into editing. He's amazing, and deserves a ton of credit for his work.


End file.
